


Encounters at Mirkwood

by majesticmcold



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Gen, laaaaaaame, rated T for like one swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticmcold/pseuds/majesticmcold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot, crack fic, and one of my favourite things I've ever written. Fili and Kili take Ori to Mirkwood, the local dance club, to celebrate his coming of age, but encounter some familiar people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encounters at Mirkwood

‘C’mon, Fee!’

Fíli frowned down at the tie he was attempting to straighten. ‘Why – won’t – this – stay?!’

Kíli, all dark clothes and black wristbands and stubble, sniggered from where he was standing, leaning up against the door of Fíli’s room. ‘D’you need Mummy to fix it for you?’ he snorted.

Fíli shot a glare at his brother. ‘No, I do not. Not like some,’ he added slyly, to which Kíli reddened.

‘Yeah well, who wears ties anyway?’ Kíli grumbled.

Fíli smirked – but his smugness didn’t last long. He yelped indignantly as Kíli strode over and yanked the tie out of Fíli’s hands.

‘Hey! Uncle Thorin gave me that tie!’

‘You won’t need ties where we’re going, big brother.’ Kíli looked Fíli up and down. ‘You look far too formal, but I suppose it’ll have to do.’

Fíli looked down at his simple shirt and slacks and saw nothing wrong. ‘Oh yeah, and what about that new cuff of yours?’

Kíli smiled proudly, wrapping a hand around the leather band on his wrist. ‘Dwalin gave this to me. Besides, it’s better than those braids of yours.’

‘Well, at least I have a beard.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Boys?’ Dís, looking every inch the smart and successful business woman she was, poked her head into the room. ‘Have you heard from your uncle?’

‘No?’ Fíli answered, shaking his head. ‘Why?’

‘I just got a message from Legolas – apparently Thranduil is expecting Thorin in a meeting.’ Dís frowned. ‘Have you heard anything about this, Fee?’

But Fíli’s bewildered expression told Dís he hadn’t. ‘Sorry, Ma.’

Dís hmphed. ‘Wish he’d stop going behind my back …’ The rest of her grumbles died out as Dís walked away, leaving behind the echoing slam of a door. Fíli and Kíli exchanged bemused looks and shrugged.

 ——————

‘Oriiiiiii!’

Kíli swung an arm around their childhood friend. Ori smiled weakly.

‘So we finally managed to drag you away from your books, eh?’ Fíli grinned.

‘I had to sneak out,’ Ori muttered, shooting a dubious look at the sign of the building in front of them. _Mirkwood._ ‘Dori wouldn’t have let me go if I told him and Nori would have stolen my keys to stop me from leaving – are you two sure this a good idea?’

‘Kee, quit it,’ Fíli hissed at his brother, who was inspecting Ori’s knitted cardigan sceptically. ‘Ori,’ he continued louder, ‘you’ve come of age, and we need to celebrate it appropriately.’ He winked, and walked towards  _Mirkwood._

The club was loud, suffocating, and Ori wasn’t appreciating the flashing lights. He drew instinctively closer to the Durin brothers as they made their way confidently through the crowd as though they had done it many times before – when in fact both Fíli and Kíli were as intimidated by the jostling bodies as Ori was.

‘I’ll get the drinks, shall I?’ Fíli offered.

Kili sniggered, his attention elsewhere. ‘Sure.’

‘What is it?’ Ori asked curiously, attempting to see over the crowd.

‘Who’s that bloke?’ Kíli nodded towards a large group of dancers, all of whom were gathered around and cheering on a tall and slender man moving purposefully (and rather suggestively) in the middle. ‘Blondie.’

Fíli turned, saw the man Kíli was referring to, and almost dropped his wallet. ‘Shit.’

‘You know him?’ Kíli asked his brother incredulously.

‘That’s … that’s Thranduil.’ Fíli could hardly believe his eyes.

‘Do you mean to tell me, that the twerking blondie in front of us, wearing that ridiculous flower crown, is Thranduil, head of Greenwood Industries? Uncle’s biggest competitor and rival, Thranduil?’

‘The one and the same,’ growled a voice behind them.

Fíli and Kíli barely had time to turn before they were pushed apart by a burly man. Both men froze at the sight of their uncle, almost too frightened to take in the large jacket, baggy pants and large shoes that Thorin was wearing.

‘Thor-Thorin,’ Fíli stammered.  _Please don’t tell Ma we were here._

But Thorin seemed to be giving Fíli that same look. He grabbed hold of Fíli’s coat lapels and pulled him close.

‘This does not leave  _Mirkwood._  Understood?’

Fíli could only splutter, but Thorin seemed to take that as confirmation, and turned away from his eldest nephew.

‘Well, if it isn’t Thorin Oakenshield,’ boomed a smooth, deep voice. Fíli, who was accustomed to hearing that voice across a desk, accustomed to that voice belonging to a serious and white-suited man, almost trembled as Thranduil approached the Durins.

Ori was simply stunned, holding on for dear life as Kíli threatened to bowl him over in his laughter.

‘Let’s get this over and done with,’ Thorin said harshly, his voice travelling throughout the club in the sudden silence.

Thranduil nodded and gestured gracefully. Glaring under bushy eyebrows, Thorin followed Thranduil into the middle of the crowd.

‘Are they –’ Ori gulped. ‘Are they going to -?’

‘Have a dance-off?’ finished a musical voice far above Ori. Ori looked up to see Legolas, Thranduil’s son and heir, adorned with a cap placed artfully sideways, wearing novelty glasses and flowers threaded through his hair.

‘Indeed,’ Legolas continued, turning to grin at Fíli. ‘You’d best get your dancing skills up to scratch, little man. Once we take the helm of our respective companies, that’ll be us up there.’

Kíli was on his hands and knees, howling with laughter, attracting the attention of bemused dancers, and even Ori was chuckling uncontrollably at Fíli’s indignant look.

‘I’d never -!’

‘Oh yes you will.’ The music had started and the dance-off had already begun. Legolas moved fluidly in time to the beat. ‘It’s a tradition. Oropher and Thrain before our successors, and their fathers before them. Partaking in the wonderful art that is dance and party to determine who is more superior. Us Greenwood folk are trained from an early age. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must find Gimli.’

‘Oh, is Gimli here?’ Ori said curiously, looking ahead in the direction Legolas was moving towards.

But Fíli was staring helplessly at Thorin and Thranduil, frantically dancing away to a cheering crowd, full of Greenwood workers and Durin’s folk alike. Doomed to his fate.

‘I don’t envy you, big brother,’ Kíli laughed in Fíli’s ear, clapping a hand on Fíli’s shoulder. ‘Though I must admit I would be the better man for this situation – you’ve got the business side all down, but … well, you’re not the party type.’

‘I’ve drunk my fair share of ale,’ Fíli grumbled, but Kíli had a point. Fíli was no dancer.

‘And now, it is my turn to excuse myself.’ Kíli grinned wickedly. ‘I came here to mingle and, well …’

Fíli followed his brother’s gaze to the side of the room, where a rather nervous looking, dark haired man with cheekbones was lingering. Fíli recognised him as Lindir, Elrond’s second-in-command in his Rivendell Corporation.

Kíli winked at Fíli and Ori as he moved over to introduce himself.

Fíli shook his head, looking back to Thorin and Thranduil, who were now engaged in a very serious and very intense ale-drinking competition. Fíli sighed heavily.

‘Come along, Ori. Let’s get a drink.’


End file.
